


Hanker Sore

by etymolodrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, Enemies to Lovers, Hate to Love, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, No Angst, No Sex, No Smut, One Shot, POV First Person, Short, Short One Shot, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, hanker sore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/pseuds/etymolodrarry
Summary: Hanker sore: (adj.) finding a person so attractive it actually kinda pisses you off.Harry's emotions have been giving him mixed signals.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 186





	Hanker Sore

**Author's Note:**

> Hanker sore: coined by John Koenig from dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com

"So, Potter," Malfoy stood to my left, as we waited for the rest of our Ancient Magic class to trickle into the hall.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I sighed. We had just spent the last two hours writing out our family trees, and writing _deceased_ next to every single name had left me in a sour mood.

"Well, I was thinking that your family tree must be easy for you," he drawled, "after all, you're the only one on it."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my face from going red. "Really, because I thought yours would be rather simple as well." Draco raised an eyebrow, and I continued, "Since your family is so inbred, it's practically a _circle_. Unless," I added, "a circle is _still_ too difficult for you, considering that developmental delays are often a byproduct of incest."

I didn't wait for his reaction _—_ I ducked through the doorway and hurried down the hall. I wasn't in the mood for a fight, and besides, the anger was already retreating. This had been happening lately—any mention of Malfoy left me frustrated and angry, but as soon as he was _there_ —the feeling was replaced by something else.

Ancient Magic was on the sixth floor corridor, which meant that—yes, there it was. I hurried over to the knight statue, ducking behind its accompanying tapestry. _Thank Merlin for secret passages._

The feeling was already crawling up my chest, settling in my throat and leaving me breathless. I slid down the wall and sat on the smooth stone floor, trying to even out my breathing. _What is wrong with me?_

Something had happened when the horcrux in my scar was destroyed. My emotions were all over the place—I could never tell what I was feeling. I was supposed to be getting better, I was supposed to be _healing,_ but it was like I was moving in the opposite direction.

It always started with anger, and it always started with Malfoy. Just when it seemed my insides were going to boil over in rage, it would subside—in its place was something new. My face would get red, and I couldn't breathe, as if the air would burn my lungs. All I knew was that somehow, Malfoy was causing it.

* * *

"Harry?"

I tore my eyes from the fireplace to glance at Hermione, my eyes dry from not blinking. "Yeah?"

"Are you— are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said absentmindedly, but I was kind of annoyed. I'd _finally_ managed to clear my mind, but with Hermione's interruption, everything came tumbling back. I _had_ to figure out what was wrong with me— why everything was such a jumbled mess.

I couldn't talk to Ron or Hermione about it—how was I supposed to explain the problem, anyways? _Something's going on in my head, but I don't know what it is or what's causing it._ _They_ were never angry for no reason, and whatever this new emotion was— I could hardly describe it, much less put a name to it.

It was clear that they didn't believe me. "Seriously, mate," Ron said, "Something's up. You haven't been talking to us, _and_ you haven't even mentioned Malfoy in weeks!"

"Just _drop_ _it_ , Ron," I snapped. There it was again. I closed my eyes, basking in the heat of the anger that washed over me. "Sorry," I added, but I knew it wasn't convincing.

"Really, Harry," Hermione frowned. " _What's wrong?"_

I sighed. "I don't know," I said, "I've just been feeling weird, that's all."

"Weird how?"

I looked between my two friends and shrugged sheepishly. "Like... like I can't breathe?"

"You mean, like a panic attack?"

I shook my head. I _knew_ what a panic attack felt like—this was definitely not it. Sure, I _was_ panicking, but it was different, somehow. There was no dread in the pit of my stomach, no dizziness, no sensation of falling. It was something softer—like butterflies, or nervousness.

But why couldn't I breathe? And why did it only appear around _Malfoy,_ of all people?

"Just drop it, okay?" I asked desperately, and tried to smile reassuringly. "I'll be fine, _really._ I'll figure it out."

They didn't believe me then, either.

* * *

I managed to avoid Malfoy for the next few weeks. I sat close to the door in every class, used my invisibility cloak as much as possible, and kept the map on me at all times. Luckily, I'd only a few close calls.

In hindsight, I should've known better to spend time in the eighth year dorms. I mean, what was I _expecting?_

"Potter," A voice spoke to my right, but I didn't look up from my book. _"Potter."_

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I snapped. I crossed my fingers, praying that the feeling wouldn't appear as long as I didn't look at him. _As long as I don't look at him, I'll be fine._

"I want to know why you're ignoring me."

I casually turned the page, though I hadn't finished reading it. "I'm not ignoring you," I answered, "Besides, we hate each other, so why do you care?"

"Because we're arch nemeses, Potter. You should _know_ that." _God, his voice is annoying._

"Hang on," Ron interrupted. "Firstly, you are _not_ Harry's arch nemesis. _Voldemort_ is. Secondly, fuck off!"

"Voldemort's _dead."_ Malfoy countered, "Which makes _us_ arch nemeses. So let me repeat myself: _why are you ignoring me?"_

"What, are you _five?"_ I gripped my quill so hard I thought it would break. "Just leave us alone."

In the corner of my eye, I could see Draco staring at my clenched fist. Finally, _finally,_ he left.

I hadn't looked up, but I swear, I could feel his stare boring into the back of my head.

"What the fuck was that about?" Ron asked in a hushed whisper.

I just shook my head. I didn't trust myself to speak.

* * *

A week later, Malfoy confronted me again, in the secret passage by out Ancient Magic class. I'd never seen anyone else use it, and I was so distracted, I nearly ran into him. He had to quickly step to the side to avoid me, standing on his toes to keep his balance.

"What are _you_ doing here," I muttered under my breath. _Just my luck._

"Going to class," he answered sarcastically. "Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you?"

Honestly, it seemed a little unlikely that Malfoy just _happened_ to be in this passage. It was almost as if he was looking for me. "Like I've told everyone else, I'm _fine."_ I answered, and made to turn away, but he blocked my path.

"You don't expect anyone to _believe_ you, right?" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Look, even _I'm_ getting worried, and we _despise_ each other."

"Just leave me alone, Malfoy, and everything will be fine." _I just need to get through the rest of this year, and I'll be fine._ _I'll never have to see Malfoy again, and everything will be fine._

He wasn't even insulting me, but anger was starting to crawl its way up my chest. I focused on my breathing, counting backwards to try and calm down. _Ten, nine, eight, seven..._

But it was too late—it was already beginning to morph into that slow burning feeling that spread through my chest and face.

"Why are you so _red?"_ Malfoy huffed out a laugh, and I tried to turn away and leave. "No, you're not going _anywhere_ until you tell me what's going on," he crossed his arms.

"Are you really _so entitled_ that you must know _everything?"_ I snapped at him and leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor. Malfoy couldn't know, he just _couldn't._ _No one_ could know. I only had an inkling of what _might_ be going on, and I didn't like it. I'd buried my emotions in the past—surely, I could do it again.

Malfoy stared at me as I put my face in my hands. Maybe if I just stayed like this, he'd go away—

"Is this about Weaselette?"

" _No,_ we aren't even together. _"_ I muttered. Malfoy really wasn't helping his cause. "And don't call her that."

Recognition dawned in Malfoy's eyes. "I know what this is," he said suddenly.

_Fuck._

My head snapped up. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it_ —

"Are you _gay?"_

_FUCK._

"What? _No,"_ I answered quickly. Shit, _too_ quickly. "Why—why would you even _think_ that?"

Malfoy only raised an eyebrow, looking himself up and down, and waited.

"Oh, You're-?" I said slowly, and he nodded. "Then—why are you telling me this?"

Malfoy sighed. "I may hate you, but not enough to make you go through this alone." He joined me on the floor, sitting against the opposite wall. "So?" he asked. "Who was your gay awakening?"

"My _what?"_ I choked, "I never _said_ I was gay— I'm _not."_

Malfoy only stared.

"Okay, _fine,_ " I snapped, "I don't _know,_ okay? I don't know what's going on."

Malfoy leaned his head against the wall. "Well, why do you think you're _not_ gay?" He asked.

I frowned. Did he _really_ expect me to start _talking_ to him? I mean, c'mon, he's _Malfoy._

He sighed. "I'm not going to tell anyone," he said, exasperated. "Do you want me to swear it? Because I'll swear it—"

" _No,"_ I said quickly. I _really_ didn't want to hold hands with Malfoy, even if just for a vow. " _Fine._ I guess, because I still—I still like—"

"You still fancy women." He finished, and I nodded. "Merlin, Potter," he looked up at the ceiling, "you're a fucking _idiot_ —don't you know _anything?"_

" _Excuse_ me?"

"You don't have to choose _one,"_ he tried to explain.

_Huh?_

_"You can fancy both men and women,_ idiot."

"Oh." I said. _Oh._ That meant that I—

"So, has your answer changed?" He asked.

 _Answer for what_ — "Oh, er," I frowned. "I guess so."

"Say it."

"What?"

"Say it _outloud."_

"Uh, I'm— I'm gay?"

"Bisexual," Malfoy corrected.

"Bisexual." I paused. That _feeling,_ whatever it was, had vanished. I could breathe just fine, my face seemed to be a normal color, and I actually felt kind of relaxed.

"So lemme ask again," he said, "your gay awakening—or _bi_ awakening—who was it?"

 _Never mind._ I thought. _There it is again._

"It doesn't matter," I said quickly, standing up. "Um, thanks, I guess." _What the fuck am I supposed to make of this?_

"Whoa, I'm not done here," Malfoy put his arm across my chest to stop me and I had to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over me from standing too fast.

"Well, I am." I replied shortly. What the hell was I supposed to say? _"I'm gay for_ you _, as in, the person whom I've fought with for the past eight years?"_ Not a chance. I turned away from him and started to leave.

Malfoy still wouldn't let me leave. "Mine was Flint," he said.

For a moment, I forgot about leaving and paused. " _Flint?_ Are you _kidding?"_

"Oh, please, I was _twelve,_ for Merlin's sake, cut me some slack." He probably would've kicked me if I wasn't ten feet away. "Well?" He continued, "I told you mine, so now it's your turn."

_Ten, nine, eight..._

I whipped around. "I'm not going to _fucking_ tell you," I snapped. "Just leave me alone—you've already figured out my secret, aren't you _satisfied_?" I need to _leave._

"Whoa," Malfoy held his hands up in defense, "Chill the fuck out, Potter, it's not that big of a deal. Wizards don't give a shit who you want to shag—"

"I'm leaving." I announced, trying to turn around, but he grabbed my upper arm, forcing me to stay still. For a moment, the only sound was my uncontrolled breathing.

Then, I wrenched my arm out of his grip, but I was off balance. My back hit the wall, and I was trapped.

Malfoy leaned forward, placing his hands on the wall behind me. I probably could've gotten away— it's not like I'd never been shoved up against a wall during primary school. But— _fuck._

"Why are you so worked up?" He asked softly.

He was standing too close—surely he could hear my heartbeat—it was beating so hard, I could feel my pulse in my neck. _Ten, nine, eight, seven..._ It wasn't working, I couldn't control my breathing. "Because—"

Had he leaned in closer? _How is this going to end?_ His forehead was nearly touching mine, and I could see the flecks of blue] in his silver eyes. _Did I notice that before?_ No, of course not, why would I notice something like that? I _hated_ him.

_No, I don't think I do._

"Because?" Malfoy whispered, but I wasn't listening. If I just moved a tiny bit—his lips were _so_ close, surely he was doing this on purpose... it was almost as if he was waiting for me. But I was still frozen, and it took a bit of effort to lift my head.

My lips crashed into his, and my mind went blank—I was falling, or maybe floating, or somewhere in between—there was that burning feeling again, but this time, it felt _amazing_. The roughness of the kiss didn't seem to matter. He leaned back a bit, maybe from surprise, or maybe from the force of the kiss, but he recovered quickly enough to kiss back.

You know when people say that their _'soul left their body?'_ Well, I'd never understood it until now, but that's truly what it felt like— and my soul literally _has_ left my body.

He pulled away after a moment, and once again, the only sound was my uncontrolled breathing—only this time, it was for a different reason.

"Does that—" my voice sounded rough, and I cleared my throat. "Does that answer your question?"

"Does it—" He looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes widened slightly. "Oh," the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a smile, "I suppose it does," he answered.

"So, um," I looked at the ground, "Does this—er, I mean, do you—"

"I fancy you," he interrupted.

"You—you do?"

He stared at me. "Why else would I—why else would I kiss you?"

"Alright then," I answered, and it was difficult to keep myself from grinning. I picked up my bag from the floor—I hadn't even realized I'd dropped it—and we walked down the hallway together this time. We were almost late for Ancient Magic, but _I_ certainly didn't care.

"Thanks."

He gave me an amused look. "For what, _snogging_ you?"

"Well, _sure,_ I _guess,"_ I rolled my eyes, "but also for talking me through all of that. It took you ten minutes to fix the problem I've been having for the last two months," I said.

"Well, what did you _expect?_ " Malfoy waved his hand, "I'm _amazing."_

"Hey, hang on a second." I grabbed his hand to stop him. We'd reached the end of the passage, and I could hear students on the other side of the tapestry, where the knight statue stood. "Are we—I mean, would you—" I swallowed. "I mean, I kind of have a reputation—well, you _know_ that, but if we _do_ date—I mean, if you _want_ to—"

"Harry," he interrupted, and my breath caught in my throat. "I have a reputation _too,_ you dunderhead, and it's definitely not as positive as yours."

I bit my lip. "Maybe they'll cancel each other out?" I asked hopefully.

He squeezed my hand. "I suppose we'll have to find out."

We left through the tapestry, still holding hands.


End file.
